


An Unlikely Ally

by MoonlightBreeze



Series: Whumptober 2020 [18]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alec Lightwood Feels, Alec Lightwood Has Anxiety, Alec Lightwood Needs A Hug, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Light Angst, Panic Attacks, Simon Lewis & Alec Lightwood Friendship, Supportive Simon Lewis, Whumptober 2020, admittedly he does not get this but mostly because he would eviscerate Simon if he tried, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27158341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBreeze/pseuds/MoonlightBreeze
Summary: When Alec has a panic attack in the Institute, Simon is there to help him.Whumptober 2020 prompt fic - Panic attacksHopeful/happy ending!!Warning for panic attack within. Please keep yourselves safe! <3
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Simon Lewis & Alec Lightwood
Series: Whumptober 2020 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950094
Comments: 6
Kudos: 115





	An Unlikely Ally

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! The Whumptober prompt attached to this fic is: panic attacks. I actually wrote this fic a long time ago, at least a few months or so. When I saw this Whumptober prompt, I decided it was the perfect opportunity to update and rewrite it! I love the Simon & Alec brotp and I'm so happy I got the chance to write them.
> 
> Warning for panic attack within! This is the main focus of the story and fairly detailed, so please be cautious and keep yourselves safe! <3
> 
> I really hope you like this!! Kudos make my day and comments validate my existence, so please feel free to leave them, if you want :) And, as always, I hope you have a wonderful day/night!
> 
> ~ Em

The walls were closing in on Alec, or at least it felt like they were, and he gripped the table so hard that his fingers began to turn white. The room felt impossibly smaller, more suffocating, the atmosphere of it tighter around his throat than he could handle. Alec couldn’t breathe. 

He couldn’t _breathe_.

He vaguely registered the blunt pain of his own nails as his hands scrambled to press against his neck, searching for even the smallest beat of a pulse beneath his fingertips. He needed to figure out why his lungs weren’t working right even though he knew, he _knew_ why. The sensation of pain was so fleeting that he couldn’t even hope to focus on it. Alec felt tears of frustration rise to his eyes. The world blurred before him, but that didn’t change his awareness of his surroundings; he was in the Institute, in the ops center, _surrounded_ by people who could look up from their tasks at any moment and notice the state he was in. The oldest Lightwood, having some sort of _breakdown_. God, he could just imagine it. 

Usually, Alec could make it until he was in his bedroom and free to shake and cry, collapse to pieces, without any of the other Shadowhunters the wiser. 

That hadn’t worked this time.

He remembered what happened clearly, and it sent sparks of panic racing down his spine. He remembered his hug with Jace, the way his parabatai had pulled him closer to him, exhaling shakily into his shoulder. Jace was vulnerable with him in a way that he wasn’t with anyone else, and Alec just had to ruin that with his stupid, sick feelings for him. 

Jace hadn’t noticed; no, he was still very much in the dark about how Alec felt, thank god. But Alec knew it was only a matter of time before his golden-haired counterpart began to take notice of the way Alec tensed when they touched, of the stares that he tried so hard to hide, of the feelings that he had never, ever put voice to, not even to Izzy.

Jace _would_ notice. It was only a matter of time. 

And what would happen to them then?

The best case scenario? Jace would let him down easily with a quick, “You’re my brother and that’s how I see you,” or a simple “I’m straight, Alec.” 

Then there was the worst case scenario: Jace would decide he didn’t want to be soul-bound to someone like Alec and sever their connection. 

Of course, that also created the problem of his parents becoming aware of his feelings for Jace and the kind of hell he would be put through if they found out exactly how different his preferences were. 

He didn’t think Jace would reveal his secret to their parents, but he didn’t know for _sure_. Being a gay Nephilim was practically unheard of, but the one time that Alec had heard it mentioned in conversation was when his own father told a few friends about his parabatai and why their connection had broken.

Michael Wayland had been in love with Robert, and Alec’s father had cut his parabatai off because of it and exposed the secret to his wife and their circle of friends without hesitation.

Alec didn’t think Jace would do that, or even anything close to it, but he couldn’t be certain. He could never be _certain_.

Alec didn’t even want to think about it. 

A small sound to Alec’s left, perhaps a voice, grabbed his attention for a second, but it was stolen away when he realised, for the second time that day, that he couldn’t fucking _breathe_.

Alec tore at his shirt, trying to ignore the tears making tracks down his cheeks without his permission. His nails left deep red scratches on his chest as he tried in vain to loosen the shirt. He had to take a breath. He knew he did. He had to _breathe_.

But, suddenly and frighteningly, Alec found that he had forgotten how to. 

Alec couldn’t calm the racing thoughts that sped through his mind and burned his insides like he’d swallowed acid. The self-loathing that rushed through his veins like poison was powerful enough to bring him to his knees. He barely registered the cool tiles as he collapsed. 

When something wet began seeping into the knee of his jeans, however, he clung to the sensation and tried to focus his blurry vision on it enough to see what the unknown substance was. It took him a few tries, but eventually he was able to look at it, and it was...paint?

Alec was confused, but there was no denying what he saw: a thick streak of black paint on the tile his knees were resting on. 

“Alec.” A voice managed to make itself heard over the din, but Alec couldn’t place who it belonged to. “Alec, can you hear me?”

Alec tried to nod, or speak, or give some indication that yes, he did hear the speaker that had approached him, whoever they were, but all he managed to do was make a choked sound and curl his hands into fists. 

He hated feeling so helpless. He _hated_ it. He could only hope that whoever was with him wasn’t someone that had a penchant for gossip. If Alec Lightwood, the best archer and one of the strongest warriors in the entire Institute, was said to be seen on the floor in the throes of a panic attack, there’d be no hope for restoring his family’s honour. 

“Alec.” The voice spoke again, cutting through the loud ringing in Alec’s head. He tried to focus on the voice, the note of concern it carried, the insistence that plagued it, the frustrating familiarity of it. 

“Hey, I have something for you to do,” the voice continued. “Can you hear me, Alec?”

Something clicked inside Alec’s mind and he placed who it was that was talking. It was Clary’s little mundane friend, Simon. 

Alec struggled to keep a sudden onslaught of tears from spilling over at this revelation. Of the few people Alec would trust with his weakness like this, Simon was not one of them. 

Simon was _definitely_ not one of them.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Simon must have noticed his distress. “It’s okay, Alec. There’s no one here but me. They all went out on a mission, okay? We’re alone here. I promise, I’m the only one here right now. It’s okay.”

Alec nodded and tried to take a deep breath. _Just me and Simon. No one else here. Just me and Simon. No one else here._ While the idea of Simon seeing him like this wasn’t particularly appealing, either, it was worlds better than another Shadowhunter.

“That’s it,” Simon encouraged. “Deep breaths, man.”

Alec wanted to scowl at him - god, did he want to - but he was too focused on getting himself back under control to care too much. 

Simon took his wrist in his hands and, as much as Alec wanted to snap at the mundane for touching him, he didn’t have enough fight in him to protest. 

Simon placed Alec’s hand into what he could see was another, larger streak of paint, and Alec inhaled sharply, surprised at the sensation. The quick breath made him choke, but Simon was there in an instant, rubbing soothing circles into his back and urging him to try again. 

Alec spread his palm and focused on the paint. _Black._ It was black. It was cold. It was wet, so it must be new. He took in the grain of the tiles and the paint that streaked them and tried to breathe in again. 

He succeeded in taking a breath that time, and Simon’s voice was there, offering praise and encouragement, and Alec didn’t know how he felt about that. 

Simon picked up Alec’s hand again and moved it to another tile. This one was painted, too, Alec realised. It was a deep ruby red that made his eyes water because of how similar it was to the red leather of the Institute’s punching bag that he was so used to. _Where I should have gone in the first place_ , he thought to himself bitterly. He took another deep breath. His shoulders were beginning to loosen, the tension slowly bleeding out of him. 

Simon kept guiding Alec around the ops center floor, placing his paint-covered hand on different colours - orange, yellow, green, blue, even pink. Eventually, the mundane boy began to ask Alec to identify each colour as they progressed.

He felt stupid doing it, especially with Simon, but Alec couldn’t deny that having something else to focus on was helping. He stuttered out, “B-Blue,” and tried not to let himself take pride in the correct answer, despite the praise Simon gave him for it. 

“And this one?” Simon pointed to another square, this one painted with a horribly vibrant green streak, and Alec mumbled the name of the colour. This continued on until Alec was able to breathe properly again, and he didn’t feel quite so claustrophobic and trapped. He closed his eyes, humiliation flooding through him and causing a rosy blush to rise to his cheeks. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, not knowing what else to say. “I...I - please don’t tell anyone.” He hated to beg or grovel, but if word got out about his abnormality - or rather, _abnormalities_ , as he was viciously reminded of how he’d gotten himself into this situation in the first place - he would be done for. He could say goodbye to becoming Head of the Institute someday, and his parents would disown him. Hell, even his siblings might see him differently if they knew. 

Alec knew that, as much as he hated to ask Simon for anything, no one else could ever know. 

Simon, to his benefit, looked decidedly offended at the notion that he _would_ tell anyone. “This stays between us,” he reassured Alec firmly. With that, he offered Alec a hand up, and the dazed Shadowhunter swallowed his pride and accepted the help, climbing to his feet. 

When they were upright and Alec no longer felt like he might suffocate if he tried to think too hard, he stopped and took in the sight of the ops center floor. The tiles, almost all of them, were painted with large streaks of some colour. There were empty spray paint cans lying on the ground next to Simon’s feet, and Alec guessed that he must have been carrying them around to decorate that godawful van of his with. 

For once, Alec was grateful for Simon’s shitty band, although he’d never say so. 

He did, however, know that a thank you was in order.

“Thanks,” he offered lamely, and Simon laughed and bumped his fist clumsily. Alec peered at him in confusion. “What was that?”

“It was a bro thing,” Simon replied, as though the answer was obvious. Alec raised an eyebrow.

“Bros!” Simon exclaimed. He looked affronted by Alec’s reaction. “As in, ‘we’re bros, bro’?” 

Alec shook his head and turned to walk away, but Simon caught his wrist before he could leave. The mirth had left his face and the serious expression he wore was so unlike Simon that Alec felt decidedly uncomfortable.

“You do know there’s nothing wrong with having panic attacks, right?” Simon asked. His brows furrowed in concern, and he looked worried and a little wary, like he thought Alec was a flight risk. “My sister has them. That paint thing - I use it all the time on paper to help her calm down.”

Alec didn’t quite know what to say to that, so he focused on the tiles at their feet and settled for: “You know you’re going to have to clean all that up, right?”

“I know,” Simon replied cheerfully. “It’s alright. Anything for a bro!” He grinned and held out his fist to Alec, clearly expecting him to reciprocate his gesture from earlier.

Alec sighed in a long-suffering manner but, as the clouds began to clear from his mind and the shadows stopped their all-too-familiar dance in his eyes, he couldn’t resist reaching out and bumping Simon’s fist with his own. 

And if there was a small, tiny smile playing on the edges of his lips when their fists connected, well, that meant nothing.

The look on Simon’s face as he got down on his hands and knees to clean up the mess he’d made on the ops room floor was exuberant and, quite frankly, confusing, and Alec was left to wonder if perhaps there was more to this mundane than he had thought.

**Author's Note:**

> [Stalk me on Tumblr](http://moonlight-breeze-44.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Prompts are open, but very slow! Thank you for your patience. <3
> 
> If you love Shadowhunters, chaos, and gaining new friends (or any combination of the three), I invite you to [join the Discord server](https://discord.gg/82pvdE39fD) I run with my friends! We're a multifandom server that caters to Shadowhunters, Supernatural, Marvel, and more. We welcome everyone, and we'd love to have you! <3


End file.
